That smile on Faith's pale brow has shone,

That calm is yielding breath ; That hour is to the righteous known

Upon the bed of death.

COME!

а

WHEN God his wrathful stores called out

To whelm a world beneath the curse, 'Mid wild uproar and thundering shout

Of waters, Mercy whispered thus: “ Come thou, until the overflow

of this, mine anger, passeth by:" Secure, Noah tarried, till the bow,

Beautiful signet, spanned the sky.

And when again the cry went up

From earth, accusing to the throne; And guilty man had filled his cup,

And Sodom must be overthrown:
“Come ye, my people!” in that hour

The voice of kind alarum rung;
And Heaven delayed the burning shower,

And round its own its mantle flung.

In latter time Redemption's plan,

Conceived ere worlds in space were hungUnfolded, and the Son of Man

Sojourned a ruined race among:

WILLIAM B. TAPPAN.

211

And still the Incarnate Teacher cried, “ Come, thirsty, come! and thirst

ye

neyer:" And till in pangs he bowed and died,

He bade men come and live for ever.

Now speaketh out Jehovah's love,

In tones to chide, entreat, alarm,
He bids the wounded Come, and prove

How kind is Gilead's healing balm.
Of all the injured law reveals,

Or gospel woes, is this the sum: Jesus for sin a pardon seals,

The Spirit and the Bride say, Come!

THE SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS.

The soldiers of the cross

Led by the anointed Son, Know not of shame or loss,

Their watchword still is “ On"Onward! till o'er a rebel world Victorious banners are unfurled.

Whose flag looks o'er the field

Idolatry hath trod?
On waving folds revealed,

Behold the Word of God:
Barbaric kingdoms gather round,
Jehovah! where thy name is found.

Who next?-a lamb-like throng,

The joyous infant train
Approach and hail with song

Their Shepherd's peaceful reign:
And he shall lead with gentle rule
His chosen of the Sunday School.

And see! a noble band,

Whose lifted sheet of heaven
Displays from land to land

The leaves for healing given;
Where'er its spangled glories burn
The nations from the dead return.

One army of the Prince,

One note their trumpets tell,
And theirs the battle, since

Their leader vanquished hell.
To perish is to win renown,
To fall, to reach a sparkling crown.

To arms! 't were glorious boon

With these stout hearts to die;
To arms! for victory soon

Shall be the stirring cry:
Yet every crown and palm shall meet,
Where victory dwells, at Jesus' feet.

APOSTROPHE TO THE BRIG TONTINE,

BOUND FOR GREECE, FROM PHILADELPHIA, WITH PRO

VISIONS FOR THE SUFFERING GREEKS:

March 23, 1827.

SAIL on! and cheer men that have waited

In sadness, trodden down, yet free; Sail on! for barque more nobly freighted

Ploughed never the dark-heaving sea.

Smooth be the storm-swept deep before thee;

And may that God whom winds obey, While rainbow skies are laughing o'er thee,

Speedily bring thee on thy way.

0, as thy track thou’rt proudly cleaving

On Mercy's errand o'er the main, Millions, upon the shores thou’rt leaving,

Prefer the prayer—'tis not in vain

For Greece, her truly Spartan daughters,

Blessings on these, her sons and sires; For Stamboul, guilty seat of slaughters,

Just Retribution's chastening fires.

Sail on! sail on! thou bearest burden

Richer than priceless diadem;
And thy avails—aye, they're the guerdon

Of meek Compassion's holiest gem.

TO GEORGE B. ENGLISH, ESQ.

ON HIS RENOUNCING THE CHRISTIAN, FOR THE MOHAM

MEDAN FAITH.

Why, in error's wilds astray,

Youth, aspiring, art thou found?
Why forsake the former way,

Tempting thus forbidden ground?
Wears Mohammed's glittering crown,

Pageant, stained with guiltless blood-
Truer glories than have shone,

On the blessed Son of God?

Shines the robe of Moorish mail

Brighter than the Christian's gem?
Lovelier glows the crescent, pale,

Than the star of Bethlehem?
Youth, return! the Prophet's shrine

Burns not with descended flame;
Youth! the incense is not thine,

Incense of a Saviour's name.

In the contrite heart is seen

Treasures, known not to thy heaven;
Yea the tears of Magdalene

Dim the charms to Houries given.
Songs of mirth are thine, to me

Dearer is the music, holy,
Such as from Gethsemane

Comes in tones of melancholy.